


"And Hair Grows Back"

by TerribleAndRed



Series: Red is the Warmest Color: Cersei and Melisandre are Ice and Fire [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, BAMF Women, Bathing/Washing, Bathroom Sex, Bathtub Sex, Bathtubs, Cunnilingus, F/F, Gen, Girls Kissing, Hair, Hair Kink, Inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Kissing, Long Hair, Magic, Magical Girls, Massage, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, POV Cersei, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Sex, Sex Magic, Tender - Freeform, Tender Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Witchcraft, Witches, Women Being Awesome, Women In Power, melsi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerribleAndRed/pseuds/TerribleAndRed
Summary: Long after her Walk of Atonement, Cersei carried the burden of her shame with her in the form of the short hair that stubbornly refused to grow. But the new woman in her life, the mysterious Red Priestess, knows how to revive more than just a dead body.





	"And Hair Grows Back"

Cersei stormed furiously into her chambers, lifting her skirts so she could rush into her quarters quickly. “That incompetent fool!” she yelled, and looked over at Melisandre, who sat calmly in the bath, her ruby choker gleaming and her floor-length hair pinned up. “Who’s bothered you this time?” she said, with a laugh. It was rare that her lover  _ wasn’t _ frustrated with someone. “Qyburn, that bastard. The man could piece together and reanimate Ser Gregor’s body, and yet…” she sat down next on the carpet to the bath and paused. Melisandre ran her fingers along the spikes that embroidered the shoulders of Cersei’s dress. “And yet what?” she asked. Cersei looked down, embarrassed, and then looked up into Melisandre’s eyes. “And yet he can’t do anything about this” she said, pulling at the short hair that only just grazed her ears. “He said that pregnancy stimulates hair growth, but I’m three months along, and none of the potions or medicines he gives me have made it grow  _ at all _ .” “It’s humiliating for you, isn’t it, to still bear the mark of your shame?” Melisandre replied, as she drew Cersei’s face closer to hers with her hand. Cersei tried to look stoic, but eventually nodded. “I don’t know why it doesn’t grow. It seems to have just decided to stopped on its own, like some kind of curse. Even wearing my crown, I feel incomplete without my true crown.”

Melisandre listened attentively. “I always assumed you kept it short purposefully, to seem masculine and powerful.” She continued looking into Cersei’s eyes, her fingers under Cersei’s chin, which quivered. “Ah, that’s what you’ve  _ wanted _ people to think. I can see it in your eyes. But no, of course Qyburn can’t help you. He doesn’t have the Lord of Light on his side.”

Cersei sighed. “There you go again with your religious prattle” she stammered through gritted teeth. She had not wanted to welcome a religious fanatic into the Red Keep, especially after the last time she’d let a religious fanatic get close to her. But something about the red woman had been different from the start, and after Cersei learned of her exile by and lingering bitterness towards the Pretender in the North, Jon Snow, they quickly teamed up to fortify King’s Landing’s strengths, and to work together to defeat their enemies. Cersei would never forget the first night they made love, after Melisandre told her “I was mistaken and thought others were the Prince Who was Promised, but now that I’ve met you,” placing her hand on her stomach, “I know the Princess of Light is inside you, waiting to be born.”

Melisandre continued, “One can only do so much without being able to summon the true god. But I can summon R’hllor. If only you had told me how much your hair bothered you before!”

“What are you saying?” Cersei asked, and stood up. Melisandre stood up as well, her naked body dripping wet from the bath. “Any beginning red priestess knows how to regenerate the follicles. A heathen like Qyburn would not.” She stepped out of the bath,walked over to her drawer of mysterious potions, took out a few vials and one sharp object, and turned around. “You have to get in the bath for this to work.” She told Cersei. More insistently, she added, “take off your clothes.” Cersei began to unzip her dress, and took the time she needed to get out of the elaborate garment. Finally nude, she looked at Melisandre, who stood by her drawer naked and smiling, her ruby shining, her breasts perky and her toned body immaculate. “Get in,” she commanded, and the most powerful woman in the seven kingdoms felt utterly spellbound and unable to resist the red woman’s command. She dipped her body into the bath and Melisandre walked over. “Go underwater,” she directed Cersei. Cersei dunked under, rubbing her hair back from her eyes as she emerged from the water. “Good,” Melisandre added. She came and sat behind the bath so that her head was level with Cersei’s, and began massaging her scalp with something that smelled pleasantly fragrant, like lavender. “Please tell me you’re not dying it that fanatical shade of red you insist the Lord needs his followers to have” she smirked. Melisandre laughed, and her deep laughter made Cersei’s heart leap. “No. I’m not going to force R’hllor on you. You’ll come to Him when you see how he works.” 

She continued massaging Cersei’s scalp, and Cersei sighed with pleasure. How comforting it felt to have two hands in her hair, instead of only one, which was all her traitor brother could use. “Don’t flinch at this part,” Melisandre said, and Cersei turned around to see her take out a small pair of scissors. Her heart leapt and she flashed back to sitting in that cell, as the Septas hacked away at her long locks. “Don’t worry, my love,” Melisandre said reassuringly, and placed her hand on Cersei’s shoulder. “One small lock gone, but I will return it to you tenfold.” Melisandre took the piece of hair into one hand, and rinsed the oil through Cersei’s short mop of wet hair with the other, murmuring strange words in High Valyrian—Cersei had never paid enough attention to her childhood High Valyrian lessons to know what Melisandre was saying—as she rubbed the stolen lock between her fingers and caressed Cersei’s scalp with the other. 

After a few minutes, she finished, and then eagerly leaped into the bath with Cersei. “That’s it?” Cersei snarled, standing up with water dripping off her body. “There’s no change.” “It takes hours, love. Come, sit back down.” Melisandre placed her hand gently on Cersei’s shoulder, and Cersei submerged herself again, running her hands through her hair. Melisandre told her she could wash the oil out, to which Cersei replied, with a smirk, “why don’t you?” “With pleasure, my queen,” Melisandre answered, and gracefully swung Cersei’s head backwards into the bath, moving her long fingers through Cersei’s hair and playfully tousling it when she brought her head back up. Melisandre kissed the bare nape of Ceresi’s neck, stroking the spots behind her delicate ears. They looked at one another slyly, and Melisandre knew what to do next. She slid her fingers into the queen’s opening, massaging her clitoris gently, then harder and harder until Cersei began to tremble. Cersei grabbed Melisandre from the back, and they embraced in a passionate kiss, as Melisandre’s fingers continued to stimulate the queen to the brink of pleasure, then to release. Cersei moved to the back of the tub and the two women gazed at one another, their cheeks flushed. “Even without your mane, you’ll always be a lion” Melisandre said, and smiled. “But it will grow back, yes?” Cersei asked, impatiently. “Oh yes. You should be getting a nice surprise soon. But it’s been a long day. Let’s go to bed, shall we?” The women walked out of the bath and wiped each other dry, kissing one another all over their bodies as they did so. “A handmaiden can drain it later,” Cersei said. “It’s time for sleep.” Finally dry, they climbed into their bed. Cersei, the big spoon, embraced Melisandre in bed, and unfastened her lover’s pinned-up crimson waves. They trailed endlessly and fell off the bed onto the floor, and Cersei sighed as she stroked them from root to tip. “This strange magic had better work,” she thought, “because this is one head I don’t want to have to mount on a spike for treason”

Suddenly, Cersei felt an odd tugging sensation. She slowly opened her eyes and saw it was already morning; she had fallen into a deep slumber more quickly than she had in years. Melisandre faced her with a playful smile, and when Cersei looked down at the bed, she saw that the tugging was coming from Melisandre pulling on a mass of golden waves— _ her _ golden waves. Cersei sat up, startled, and felt her hair fall down her back to the bed, falling around her bottom—just as it had before she was locked away. She was unused to the feeling of its weight against her back and breasts. Its golden hue shined more vibrantly than ever before. She continued looking down at the sheets of hair that covered her breasts and torso, stroking it in disbelief, as she felt Melisandre move behind her, and grab her around her waist into an embrace. “My lion!” she beamed, and pulled Cersei’s regenerated locks around her waist like ropes to pull the queen closer to her. Cersei looked upwards into Melisandre’s eyes and kissed her deeply. This woman, she now knew, she could trust with anything. Maybe there really was something to this R’hllor, if it’s what created such a miracle. Melisandre gently raked her fingers through Cersei’s hair, which fell all the way to the bottom of her back and ended in curls around the top of her rear, and then started pulling at it roughly. Cersei sighed with both pain and pleasure. 

Suddenly, Cersei was overcome with the desire to do something she never did. She always liked to be the one receiving, never giving, but Melisandre had just given her so much, and she had to reciprocate. She burrowed herself under the sheets, pushing masses of blonde hair out of her face, and brought her lips to her lover’s fiery red pubes, before eating her out like the lioness she was. Melisandre grabbed Cersei’s long hair and pulled it upwards towards her own face, so it covered Melisandre’s chest as Cersei eat her out, and they both were flooded with arousal and orgasmic energy.

When they were finished, they lay in bed facing one another, stroking each other’s hair. “I’ll permit you that request now,” Cersei told Melisandre, “that absurd one about Qyburn affixing your necklace to you permanently? I don’t know why you keep on insisting,” Melisandre blushed when Cersei said this, “but I know it connects you to your god, and your god just saved me, too. I’ll talk to him about arranging the procedure this afternoon” Oh, thank you!” Melisandre cried out, and hugged Cersei tightly. Cersei added, “And I’ll let the seamstresses know they should start fashioning lower-cut robes for me. No bare neck to hide now, and now I can better display my assets for my lady.”  Melisandre then removed herself from their embrace. “I have one more treat for you,” she said, with a smirk of her own this time, as she gracefully walked out of bed, her tangled hair falling to the floor. 

Cersei couldn’t stop stroking her own restored golden crown in disbelief, watching as Melisandre took a vial out of her drawer. She flashed it in front of Cersei’s face, and Cersei burst out laughing. “It  _ can’t _ be!” “Oh, but it is!’ Melisandre insisted playfully, quickly moving in for a peck on the lips. Strands of silver hair filled the vial. “When I met the Dragon Queen, I made sure not to leave before swiping a few strands from her. On my way out of Dragonstone, I snuck into her chambers and took some from her brush. I had a feeling they might be of use one day, but was planning to use them in a spell to help her. But now that I’ve met you, I’m going to use it quite differently than I’d expected.” Melisandre began assembling a small fire, as Cersei watched in amusement, smirking. Melisandre threw Daenerys’s silver strands into the fire while omniously chanting in High Valyrian. “What on earth  _ are  _ you doing?” Cersei asked, but Melisandre hushed the queen as she continued her hex. After she finished, sitting naked and glowing red while illuminated by the fire, she climbed back into bed and snuggled her lover tightly. “Let’s put it this way: when the usurper wakes up tomorrow morning, she’ll be less satisfied than you were today. Her hair is going to be lying on the bed, and not falling from her head.” Both women burst into laughter, and their eyes gleamed with delight as they fell back down into bed together, Melisandre pulling Cersei closer to her by her golden waves. 

  
  
  



End file.
